Page 547 - david-copperfield

that rotten old ecclesiastical cheese. Although I left the of-
fice at half past three, and was prowling about the place of
appointment within a few minutes afterwards, the appoint-
ed time was exceeded by a full quarter of an hour, according
to the clock of St. Andrew’s, Holborn, before I could muster
up sufficient desperation to pull the private bell-handle let
into the left-hand door-post of Mr. Waterbrook’s house.
The professional business of Mr. Waterbrook’s estab-
lishment was done on the ground-floor, and the genteel
business (of which there was a good deal) in the upper part
of the building. I was shown into a pretty but rather close
drawing-room, and there sat Agnes, netting a purse.
She looked so quiet and good, and reminded me so
strongly of my airy fresh school days at Canterbury, and the
sodden, smoky, stupid wretch I had been the other night,
that, nobody being by, I yielded to my self-reproach and
shame, and - in short, made a fool of myself. I cannot deny
that I shed tears. To this hour I am undecided whether it
was upon the whole the wisest thing I could have done, or
the most ridiculous.
‘If it had been anyone but you, Agnes,’ said I, turning
away my head, ‘I should not have minded it half so much.
But that it should have been you who saw me! I almost wish
I had been dead, first.’
She put her hand - its touch was like no other hand -
upon my arm for a moment; and I felt so befriended and
comforted, that I could not help moving it to my lips, and
gratefully kissing it.
‘Sit down,’ said Agnes, cheerfully. ‘Don’t be unhappy,

David Copperfield